The Young Ranchers: or, Fighting the Sioux

CHAPTER XXIX.

A BREAK FOR FREEDOM

Accustomed as are the Sioux to scenes of violence, it is not probable that any members of the party to whom we have been referring ever looked upon a sight so remarkable as the prairie duel between Starcus and the young rancher.

This Indian, who had come among his native people in the hope of staying the tide of frenzy sweeping through the tribe, was himself carried away by the craze, and from a peaceable, well-educated youth became among the most violent of those that arrayed themselves against the white man.

It was one of the better impulses of his nature that led him to fire the shot when Tim Brophy was in such danger from the grizzly bear; but, as he afterward confessed, it was no sooner done than he reproached himself for not having turned his weapon against the two youths for whom he had once entertained a strong friendship.

When the headlong Irishman started toward him, Starcus hurried away, and not only joined a band of prowling hostiles, but told them of the lads, and joined in a scheme to capture and hold them as hostages for several turbulent Sioux then in the hands of the Government authorities. Knowing them as well as he did, he formed the plan of stealing up behind them, while they were riding across the snowy prairie, and the partial success of the plan has been shown.

His comrades watched the opening and progress of the strange duel with no misgiving as to the results. They saw how a run of wonderful fortune had helped the young rancher, but now, when something like equality existed between the combatants, the superiority of the American over the Caucasian race must manifest itself.

As events progressed the interest of the spectators deepened. They descended to the edge of the plain, where the view was unobstructed, leaving but a solitary warrior guarding the prisoner. The solicitude of the latter for his friend was as intense as it could be, for he could not be sure of the result until the end. He feared that Warren Starr was committing the same rashness for which he had often chided him.

The view from the rocks through the intervening trees was so imperfect that it grew to be exasperating, but there seemed to be no help for it.

The warrior in charge of Tim Brophy was expected to give his full attention to him, but as events progressed there was danger of his forgetting this duty. He began to look more to the singular contest than to his captive.

This Indian was standing on his feet, leaning forward, and peering as best he could between the trees and the obstructing limbs. Tim was seated on a bowlder at his side, and until this moment was the target of a pair of eyes that would have detected the slightest movement on his part.

The Irishman was quick to observe that by the strange trend of events a golden opportunity had or was about to come to him. The warrior seemed to forget him entirely, though, like all his people, he would be recalled with lightning quickness on hearing or seeing anything amiss.

Surely no such chance could come again. Convinced of this, Tim seized it with the rush of a hurricane.

Rising quickly and noiselessly to his feet he delivered a blow as quick as a flash under the ear of the Sioux, which stretched him like a dead man on his face.

There had been no noise, and in the excitement of the occasion the Indians at the base of the ridge were not likely to learn what had taken place until the revival of the senseless warrior, who was not likely to become of any account for several minutes.

Tim needed no urging to improve his opportunity. Facing the top of the ridge, he started off with a single desire of getting over the rough ground as fast as possible.

He had taken but a few steps, however, when he abruptly stopped.

"Begorra!" he muttered, "but what a forgitful spalpeen is Tim Brophy!"

He had no rifle. That would never do, when pursuit was inevitable in a short time. Accordingly, he turned about, ran to the prostrate figure, and took the gun from his grasp. It was not as good as his own, but inasmuch as that was in the possession of one of the others it was beyond recovery.

It seemed cruel, but to make matters safe the Irishman gave the prostrate fellow a second vigorous blow, from which he was certain not to recover for a considerable while.

"I hate to hit a man whin he is down," he reflected. "If I meets him ag'in I'll ax his pardon."

It was no time to indulge in sentiment, and he was off once more.

Some strange fate directed his steps, without his noticing the fact, along the trail made by Warren Starr in his first hurried flight. Thus it was that he came upon the other warrior that had been outwitted by the youth whom he was so confident of capturing.

Urgent as was his hurry, the fugitive paused a moment to contemplate the sight. Then with a sigh he hurried forward, for not a moment was to be lost.

It was remarkable that, after having captured the young man with so much difficulty, they should have invited him to escape, as they virtually did by their action, but the circumstances themselves were exceptional. The like could not happen again.

It was the same curious turn of events that extended his opportunity. It is rare, indeed, that, after a captive does make a break for freedom, he is allowed such a period in which to secure it; but here again the unparalleled series of incidents favored him.

There had been no outcry on the part of the third victim to Tim Brophy's good right arm. But for the forgetfulness of the youth in starting off without his gun, the fellow would have recovered speedily and made an outcry that must have brought several of his confederates to the spot.

But events were interesting beyond compare out on the prairie. All the Sioux but the one named were watching them, and when they saw the plight of Starcus there was a general rush to his assistance. The return was slow, being retarded by the efforts of several to capture their wandering ponies. When they succeeded in doing this and coming back to the edge of the plains, the better part of half an hour had passed.

The first startling recollection that came to the party after this return was the fact that the warrior who had pursued the young rancher up the side of the ridge had not put in an appearance. They would have awakened to this fact long before but for the affair between Warren Starr and Starcus. Now that it was impressed upon them, and they recalled the report of the gun that reached them long ago, together with the reappearance of the young rancher on the back of his pony, they could not fail to see the suspicious aspect of things.

There was a hasty consultation at the base of the ridge, and then the man who was really the leader ordered a couple of his warriors to lose no time in learning the truth. As eager as he to investigate, they set out without delay, but had not gone far when one of them uttered a cry which brought the whole party to the spot.

A striking scene greeted them. The white prisoner was gone, and the Indian left in charge lay on his face like one dead. His gun was missing. Strange proceedings had taken place during the absence of the party.

It took but a few minutes to learn the truth. It was easy to see that the interest of the guard in the incidents on the plain had caused him to forget his duty for the time. The Irishman had suddenly assailed him with that terrible right arm of his, and felled him senseless to the ground.

The recipient of this attention was not dead, but he felt as though he wished he was, when he was helped to a sitting position, and was compelled not only to suffer the pain of the terrific blows received, but had to face the jeering looks of his companions, who could forgive anything sooner than the outwitting of a full-grown warrior by a trick which ought not to have deceived a child.

CHAPTER XXX.

COMRADES AGAIN

Actuated by his resolution to learn the real meaning of the signal fire seen on the crest of the ridge, Warren Starr pushed on in the face of the fact that every rod in the way of advance increased his own peril. Studying the contour of the country, and carefully making his calculations, he was able to tell when he drew near the scene of his stirring encounter with the war party of Sioux. Deeming it unsafe to ride farther, he drew his pony aside, and, dismounting, led him among the rocks and trees, until he was beyond sight of anyone passing over the open country. He did not forget that a plain trail was left, which would serve as an unerring guide to those hostiles who might come upon it, but that was one of the risks of the undertaking which could not be avoided.

"Now, Jack, my boy, I want you to stay right here till I come back again," he said, in parting from the animal. "You have been faithful and have served me well, and I can depend upon you, for you are sure to do the best you can."

There could be no doubt on that point, and without any more delay he left the creature and began toiling up the ascent, his Winchester firmly in his grasp, and as alert as ever for the sudden appearance of his enemies.

An astounding surprise was at hand.

He had penetrated but a short distance from his starting point when he became aware that someone else was in the vicinity. He caught only a flitting glimpse of a person, who, descrying him at the same instant, whisked behind a bowlder for protection. Warren was equally prompt, and the two dodged out of each other's sight in a twinkling.

"If there is only one Indian," reflected the young rancher, "I ought to be able to take care of myself – great Heavens!"

The exclamation was caused by the sight of Tim Brophy, who stepped from behind the shelter and walked toward him.

Young Starr was astounded, and believed for a minute that his friend had been put forward as a decoy, and that his captors were immediately behind him. But that dread was removed the next moment by the appearance of the young Irishman, who, advancing jauntily, called out in his cheery voice:

"It's all roight, me boy! None of the spalpeens are here, and it's mesilf that would like to shake ye by the hand."

That the two warmly grasped hands and greeted each other need not be stated. Even then Warren could only murmur:

"Why, Tim, this is the greatest surprise of my life! Where in the name of the seven wonders did you come from? and how came you to give them the slip?"

"It was that which helped me out," replied the other, holding up his clenched fist; "it b'ats all other wippons whin ye git into a tight corner."

Not until the fellow had told his story could the other comprehend the amazing truth. Then he saw how a marvellous combination of circumstances had helped him, and how cleverly the quick-witted youth had turned them to account.

"I must shake hands with you again," responded the delighted Warren. "I never knew of anything more remarkable."

"Ye didn't think ye could give me any hilp," chuckled Tim, "but ye did it all the same."

"How?"

"Haven't I told ye that the little circus ye opened out on the plain drew away all the spalpeens but the single one lift to look after me? And don't ye understand that ye made things so interesting that he forgot me until I reminded him I was there by giving him a welt under the ear that he won't forgit in a dog's age?"

"I see; but I never dreamed of any such result as that."

"Nor did I, but it came all the same, and sarved me as will as if ye had fixed up the whole business."

Noticing the strange weapon in his hand Warren referred to it, and then received the whole story.

"Well, it beats anything I ever heard of. Jack isn't far off, and we can use him as we did before."

"And may I ask what ye are doing here so close to the spalpeens, whin ye ought to be miles away?"

"I set out to learn whether that fire whose smoke we saw was started by father or not. I didn't think so when you and I were talking it over, but can't rid myself of the suspicion till I find out for myself."

Tim nodded his head, and said:

"Yis; it was Mr. Starr that did it."

"How can you know that?"

"I've been there, and found out," was the surprising reply.

"Where are he and mother now?"

"Can't say; I'm looking for them. Whin I give the spalpeens the slip I did the best travelling I knew how, and without thinking of anything but getting away as quick as I could I coom right onto the spot where the fire had been burning. It hadn't gone out yit, but it was so nearly so that it give no smoke. Looking around it did not take me long to l'arn that two horses had been there – "

"They had three with them, as you told me."

"But they have only two now. I wouldn't have been sartin of the matter if I hadn't seen the print of yer mother's small shoe in the snow, and while I was looking I obsarved that of Dot, no bigger than Cinderella hersilf might have made."

Warren was profoundly interested, and tears dimmed his eyes.

"Was there no man with father?"

"I couldn't see any footprints except his."

"Then it has been as you said: Plummer was killed by the Sioux. But surely you noticed the direction they took?"

"I did that same, and was following their trail whin I cotched sight of yersilf among the trees, and coom nigh shooting ye before asking for an inthrodooction."

"Then they have passed nigh this spot?" asked the startled son.

Tim partly turned and pointed behind him.

"Right beyant is the thracks made by thimsilves and their animals, for the ground won't admit of their riding."

"I wish it were otherwise," remarked Warren thoughtfully, "for I have had the hope that they might be so near the fort as to be safe. They are not, but we ought to join them quite soon. But, Tim," added his friend, as if alarmed by a new fear, "the Sioux must have learned of your flight long ago, and are now on your trail."

"I must say that I'm forced to agree wid ye," was the reply of the Irishman, spoken as though the question was of trifling import.

"It won't do for us to stay here. They are liable to appear at any moment," and the alarmed youth glanced apprehensively around, as if he expected to see the whole party of hostiles burst through upon them.

"Jack is strong enough to carry us a long way," he added, "and since he is close at hand I can lead him out on the open plain, where we shall gain such a good start that there will be little chance of their overtaking us."

"No doubt ye are corrict."

"Then let's do it without throwing away another moment."

He turned hurriedly to carry out his own purpose, when his comrade laid his hand on his arm and detained him.

"I think, Warry," he said, in a low voice, "that ye've forgot one matter – yer fayther, mither, and Dot."

"Gracious! how came I to do that? Here I set out to hunt for them, and when they were as good as found I turn my back upon them, and think only of my own safety."

"Ye are excoosable, since ye have been upsit by the thrifling occurrences that have been going on this day."

"Take me to the spot where you left their trail," added Warren, with unusual excitement, "and we'll never leave it until we join them; we shall escape or die together."

The youths moved like those who knew that the question of life and death must be settled within a few minutes.

CHAPTER XXXI.

THE LAST HOPE

The young ranchers had to go but a short distance, when they struck the trail left by their friends. The snow rendered it so distinct that the first glance told the story. Warren saw the track made by the feet of his father, mother, and little Dot. The consciousness that he was so near them profoundly affected the son.

"There are several strange things about this," he remarked to Tim, halting for a minute before taking up the search in earnest; "we found it almost impossible for a horse to clamber up the ridge, and yet their two ponies have been to the very crest."

"That's because they found an easy way to do it from the ither side," was the sensible comment of Tim Brophy.

"Of course, but father is away off the track. More than half a day has passed since he left home, and he is hardly a quarter of the way to Fort Meade."

"He is just as near as we are, and he didn't start any sooner," was the significant remark of Tim Brophy.

"But that was his destination when he set out, while our business has been to find him."

"With no moon or stars to guide him last night, what means had he of keeping to the right coorse?"

The question gave its own answer. The cause of this wandering was so self-evident that Warren Starr would not have asked it had he not been in such a state of mental agitation as a person feels when certain he is on the eve of some critical event.

Reasoning with something like his usual coolness, the young rancher thought he saw the explanation of other matters which had puzzled him, but he bestowed little thought upon them, for his whole ambition for the time was to reach his parents.

The trail which they were following led toward the open prairie, left by Warren but a short time before. It was evident that Mr. Starr was making for that, for their animals could not serve them so long as they continued in this rough section.

"If I had been a little later," reflected the son, "I would have met them. That I did not proves that they cannot be far off."

He was tempted to call or whistle, but that would have been rash, for if there was any one point on which he was certain, it was that the hostiles were hot on the trail of Tim Brophy. The real peril was from that direction, and several times he reminded the Irishman of the fact, though he needed not the warnings.

A short distance farther and both stopped with an exclamation of dismay. The report of a weapon sounded from a point only a little way ahead.

"That was not a rifle," said Warren, turning his white face on his companion; "it was a pistol."

"Ye are corrict."

"And it was fired by father."

"I'm sure ye are right."

"They have been attacked! come on! They need our help!"

The youth dashed ahead, clambering over bowlders, darting around rocks, ducking his head to avoid the limbs, stumbling, but instantly regaining his feet, only intent on getting forward with the utmost possible speed.

His companion found it hard work to keep up with him, but fortunately they had not far to run. Without the least warning of what was coming Warren Starr burst upon his astonished parents and little Dot, the rush being so impetuous that the rancher had his Winchester half raised to fire before he understood.

At the feet of Mr. Starr lay the mare dead, killed by her master. While struggling over the rugged places she had slipped and broken her leg. The rancher mercifully put her out of her misery by placing the muzzle of his revolver to her forehead and sending a bullet through her brain.

Mrs. Starr and Dot had turned away that they might not witness the painful sight, for they loved the creature. The arrival of the youths caused the mother to face quickly about, and the next moment she and her son were clasped in each other's arms, with Dot tugging at the coat of her big brother.

"Warren, Warren, I guess you forgot me," she pleaded, when she thought the embrace had lasted long enough.

"Forget you, my darling!" he repeated, catching her up and hugging the breath from her body; "never! we are together again, and only death shall separate us."

The rancher had shaken the hand of Tim Brophy during this little by-play, and they exchanged a few words before father and son closed palms.

Then the questions and answers came fast. Tim Brophy drew a little aside to where mother and child stood, and holding the tiny hand of Dot explained matters, while Warren did the same with his father.

"Did you see us approaching when you started the fire?" asked Warren, after hurriedly telling his own story.

"No, but I was quite sure, when your mother and I came to talk it over, that you would disregard my wishes about hurrying to the fort. We went astray in the darkness, and after a number of narrow escapes, as I have just related, found ourselves at the base of this ridge on the other side."

"Did you recognize where you were?"

"No; the points of the compass were all askew, and to save my life I couldn't get my bearings. But I was convinced that you were at no great distance, and decided to try the signal which Plummer and I had used before. Poor Plummer!"

"Do you know anything about him?"

Mr. Starr related what he had discovered, adding that the body was shockingly mutilated and stripped of its belongings.

"The ascent of the ridge on the other side was quite easy, and we found no difficulty in leading the horses to the crest. There the fire was kindled. Knowing of the long stretch of level ground on this side, we set out without waiting to learn the result of the signal smoke. I knew that if you made your way to the spot where it was burning you would understand the situation, and the snow would show you how to follow us as fast as you desired."

"Did you hear or see nothing of the Indians?"

"We saw nothing of them, and were confident that the party with whom we had repeated encounters were thrown so far behind that we had good reason to believe they need be feared no longer. But all our hopes were scattered when we heard firing from the direction of the open plain. While fleeing from one party of hostiles we had almost run into another. I confess," added the father, "that for a minute I was in despair. Your mother, however, retained her courage, as she has from the first. She urged me to make for the level country, aiming for a point so far removed from the sounds of the guns that we would not be seen, unless some ill fortune overtook us. My haste in striving to do so caused the mare to fall and break her leg. I could not bear the sight of her suffering, and though I knew the danger of the act, I put her out of her misery with a pistol-ball through her brain."

"You little dreamed that Tim and I had a part in the firing of those guns which so alarmed you."

"No; it did not occur to me; but we must not make the mistake of supposing we are yet out of danger."

The experiences that had been hastily exchanged awakened the ranchers to the fact that they were still in imminent peril, for the Sioux were certain to follow Tim Brophy vigorously, and at that moment could not be far off.

Mr. Starr beckoned to his wife and Tim to approach.

"You understand matters," he said, "and the question is, what is best to do?"

"Why not continue our flight?" asked the wife.

"I would not hesitate a second were we not so fearfully handicapped. There are four of us, not counting Dot, and we have but two animals, provided Warren's pony can be found, which I very much doubt. True, we men can walk or take turns in riding, but if we continue our flight, speed is indispensable, and we would make a sorry show in our crippled condition. We would be absolutely helpless on the open prairie against the Sioux, all of whom, Warren tells me, have excellent horses."

The rancher had a scheme in his mind, but before making it known he wished the views of the others.

"It's mesilf that thinks this," said Tim Brophy; "let us go wid yees to the ridge of the prairie, and there mount Mr. Starr on Jack, while Mrs. Starr and Dot can take the ither. Thin, what is to hinder yees from going like a house afire for the foort?"

"But what of you and Warren?" was the natural question of the rancher.

"We'll cover yer retr'at."

"The proposal does more credit to your heart than your head, but I cannot entertain it."

"Nor will I listen to anything which compels us to separate again," added the son decisively. "I do not believe you can reach Fort Meade without another fight, and the absence of Tim and me would destroy hope from the first."

"But my idea," persisted the Irishman, "was to keep the fight away from the folks and have all the fun oursilves."

"That would do if it were possible to arrange the business that way," said Warren, "but the Sioux are the ones who have the decision in their hands, and while we were doing our best others would slip off and attack father and mother. If we remain together it must be otherwise. If there ever was a situation where union is strength this is one of them."

"I've exhausted me resoorces," said Tim, withdrawing a step, as though he had nothing more to say. Leaving the others to decide, he took Warren's Winchester from his unresisting hand, and began watching for the approach of the Sioux, who he was certain were following the trail through the snow.